


Rotten Marigolds

by shoujo_goddess



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Family, Other, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:12:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoujo_goddess/pseuds/shoujo_goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren didn't kill himself. He went to college and tried to get his boyfriend's death. There's another death that Kieren had to deal with at school. Then the Rising happens, and Jemima Walker rejoins the living.</p>
<p>((Written for In The Flesh Minibang))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rotten Marigolds

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was so much to work on, and it became a bit of a character study for me. I got the loveliest of lovely authors nedthepiemaker has made some truly beautiful pieces of art to accompany this fic! I highly suggest you all check them ASAP!!

The recuperation facility had barbed wire fences all around. With soldiers that patrolled the outside.  They were told it was to keep them safe, but the guns were always aimed inwards. If you stepped out of line even slightly then you'd be put into solitary confinement where they treated you as if you were still rabid.

 

Jem thought the most unbearable part were the support groups. Where you sat around in a circle and were forced to talk about your feelings. She always avoided saying anything somehow. The groups only got worse when someone started a story of how they died. Because you're expected to get up and place your hand on the speakers shoulder. She hated being surrounded so closely and having so many people touching her. Jem was actually interested in the support group that day though. They were talking about their feelings, but finally it wasn't about their old life. Now it was about the life they'd been given back. Everyone was excited or apprehensive about something from their first life.

 

"Is there anyone you're excited to see Jem?" asked the group leader.

 

She took a moment to shift, and think about her family. Of course she was excited to see her parents,  but that all paled when she remembered a kind smiling face. "My older brother definitely." she smiled for the first time since coming to the facility.

 

* * *

 

As she sat in the head doctors office Jem stared out the window at the grey sky.

 

It looked like murky ocean water, and reminded her of the holiday she'd taken with her family in her first life. The wind coming off the water had made her lips taste like salt. Since she'd risen her mouth had tasted of copper, and felt like it was full of cotton.

 

"So are you excited Jemima?" He inquired.  "You'll get to see your family again."

 

After a moment she muttered a simple "Yeah."

 

She thought about her dad as the doctor went to back to talking. She thought about his goofy laugh and bad jokes. The last time she'd seen him they had been fighting,  and weren't speaking to eachother. Jem couldn't even remember what the fight had been about. Only that it was a lot of nonsense that seemed like it mattered at the time.

 

* * *

 

The ride to where their families would pick them up was shrouded in darkness.  They'd been herded into dark military trucks by soldiers, and weren't allowed to look outside.  

 

She occupied her time with running her fingers over her stitches.  They'd had her fixed up before putting her in the ground evidently.  Jem didn't like them. They made her feel ugly, and like she really wasn't human anymore.

 

She looked out the small plastic window of the back flap, and watched the stars fly by them. Some of the others were quietly talking with each other.

 

A man who was looking forward to seeing his daughter was sharing a story about her birth. He was laughing about how nervous he'd been, and how his nerves had ultimately gotten him kicked out of the birthing room. Then he became very serious as he said, "I had been really scared the months up till that moment. I was scared I wouldn't have been a good dad or that I'd mess up somehow. When I held her in my arms though; it was like the whole world disappeared,  and I knew in that moment that I would do anything for my little lass."

 

' _Was it like that for Dad with me? '_ Jem found herself pondering.

 

Then it occurred to her she'd never been told the story of her birth before her death. The more popular story was of Kierens birth. Both her parents had told them at many a Christmas dinner about how their mom's water had broken over the toilet,  and so she'd thought nothing of it until the first contraction hit. Then the story was taken up by Dad about his harrowing experience getting their mother to the emergency room. Both of them had endured the story as best they could.

 

The conversation was taken over by a young women who missed her grandfather dearly. Some of the other PDS Sufferers in the truck talked about pets they hoped were still around. A few, like Jem, stayed silent in their thoughts.

 

When they arrived it was the dead of night, and more soldiers ushered them from the truck. They were outside a large brick building, and were led through two large white doors with their paint peeling. Jem got the distinct impression that these were the back doors.

 

Then their group was greeted by smiling nurses and doctors. She paid no attention to what was said.

 

It was obvious they were in the decoy facility; built so that families received a fake image of where their relatives had been spending their time.

 

+++

 

The pub was busy that night,  and Kieren was almost constantly needed at the tap. Voices clamored to be heard over each other, and music was playing over that thanks to the live band he'd secured.

 

A few of the people in the crowd were PDS Sufferers who'd come to simply enjoy the atmosphere,  and talk with friends. Judgmental glances cast their way did not go amiss. After all it had only been a year and a half since the drama with Rick and the HVF.

 

"Kieren get us a pint of the usual will ya?" called Gary as he sat himself at the bar. Scotch was fresh on his breath, and it was clear that he was already drunk.

 

"That'll be ten quid." He sighed as he passed the glass over the counter. The former HVF second in command looked affronted before pointing behind Kieren.

 

' **HVF VETS DRINK FREE!** ' shouted the blocky letters.

 

"That sign is going down tonight. You guys have been drinking us dry." Kieren looked around at all the blank wall space. They used to hold pictures of HVF posing with dead rabids. He'd been up there as well. His HVF band had been like a bright light as he posed next to the downed form of a rabid that had been wearing a Victorian suit.

 

"C'mon Ren you're a vet yourself! If anyone should be givin' us a discount it's you! You killed dozens of Rotters, and without us this place would be rubble." Gus' voice had gradually risen higher until the whole pub had stopped.

 

"That's enough Gary. Just pay for your pint and go drink it."

 

"C'mon Ren just give us the pint for a discount at least!" Whined another vet who was sitting down the bar.

 

"Sorry guys I can't-" he started to say.

 

"What you lookin' at Rotter?" Gary's entire stance read he was ready for a fight. The poor person went quickly back to speaking quietly with their friends.

 

"Bloody Rotters coming in here and stinking up the place. I don't want that pint anymore Ren; not when a Rotters sittin' there and decaying all over the place."

 

When several PDS stood up Kieren came out from behind the bar.

 

"Alright that's it Gary. Get out." Out of the corner of his eye he saw those who'd stood up sit down, and his shoulders relaxed.

 

"You're gonna make me drive home?" Gary's voice was a near whisper in Kierens face, and there was a bit of fear in his eyes.

 

Suddenly Kieren was back in his dorm room and his phone was ringing.

 

"Nah mate, I'll drive you home," he assured and Gary relaxed. "Hey Mort could you watch the bar for me! I'll be right back!"

 

+++

 

The drive to Gary's home was quiet. Neither of them spoke for there was only one thing at that moment they could talk about. It was a subject they both avoided as often as possible with each other.

 

Even during the Rising when they really should've talked about it they didn't.  Though it was always there tainting each mission they did. Ironically it had led them to developing some sort of friendship.

 

Soon the beat up truck was pulling into the driveway of a shabby apartment complex. Some of the windows were alight, but only a few. Kieren stopped the truck, and they sat a moment in the still quiet of the late evening.

 

"Me 'n' Vicky are on the outs Ren." Gary mumbled. Kieren only hummed it was already well known that the two had ended the engagement soon after the official disbanding of the HVF. It was something that clearly still stung for the man slumped next to him.

 

"Here we are Gary. You need any help gettin' up to your place?"  Kieren acted as if Gary had said nothing. It was always best to avoid heavy subjects when he was drunk.

 

"I'll be fine. You'll return my truck in the morning?"

 

"Yeah no problem."

 

The door was opened, and Gary was stumbling to his door. Kieren waited to make sure he got in before starting the truck.

 

* * *

 

The sun was bright in Jems eyes that morning. The bed next to her was neatly made up, and her makeup waited for her on the vanity.

 

She took a moment to stretch her muscles.  Since rising she was always stiff in the morning; a mock rigor mortis as the doctors at the facility had said.

 

Then she was sitting in front of the mirror, and looking at her pale face. Tiny blue veins were visible on her cheeks. Her white eyes, and shattered pupils looked back at her. The image of a monster sat across from her.

 

Slowly she opened the makeup to begin a process that would become her ritual every morning. Beginning with the contacts,  and ending with the eye liner.

 

Soon, too soon, a knock was at her door. In came a smiling nurse who carried clothes in a plastic bag. At the top sat clothes procured by the facility for her; the bottom were the clothes she'd been buried in.

 

"Here you are love, we managed to get a hold of clothes for a pretty girl like you." The chipper voice grated on her, but Jem forced out a thank you. "Alright! I'll just leave you to it then. When your parents get here I'll be back to fetch you."

 

Finally she was gone and Jem looked at the clothes given to her by the facility. A dark green sweater, a grey bra, grey sweat pants, and two plastic sandals.

 

She pulled on the bra, but stopped before tugging on the sweater.  At the bottom of the bag  were her burial clothes.  A cream sundress, and a t-shirt from her favorite band. Biting her lip Jem pulled the shirt on. She got into the pants and pulled the sweater over her head. It was large on her making her feel small. Another knock and the group leader from the facility was slipping into the room.

 

* * *

 

At noon she was brought to a large oak door. On the other side her parents waited for her. Something inside her stomach lurched. Jem didn't know how they'd react to seeing her again.

 

With her hand on the door she took a deep breath and opened it.

 

They were sitting on the bench provided both their heads snapped up. Her dad stood, and simply looked at her while her mom stayed seated.

 

Jem stared back.

 

His hair was grayer and wrinkles dragged his face. He was older. The laugh lines that used to only appear when he smiled were permanent fixtures. Jem bit her lip as she watched his eyes mist.

 

"Hey." He said lamely. She wanted to laugh because of course that would be the first thing he said to her. Then her mom was getting up, and rushing over.

 

Two thin arms enveloped her. They felt frailer, and sharper than she remembered. Yet they still held onto her strongly in the way she hated before her death. Now she blinked back tears as they gripped her in a way she imagined painful if she didn't have PDS.

 

"Hey." She had inherited her father's eloquence.

 

Jem watched her father give two false starts before deciding to stand away. Something inside her heart tightened at the thought that he wasn't happy to see her.

 

"Where's Ren?" She asked. They both looked at each other a moment  before her mother answered.

 

"He's at home dear. He got a job working at the pub you see, but he'll be so excited to see you." The last part was rushed and Jem paused to process it. Then it hit her.

 

"He isn't at school anymore? What happened?" The question went ignored as her mom suddenly fussed her out of the fake facility.

 

+++

 

When Kieren woke up no one was home. There was no note, and the car was gone. He took a moment to himself before heading out to the driveway where the truck sat silent.

 

The morning chill still hung in the air and misted his breath. A crisp gray sky stretched above him, and his fingers itched to paint it.

 

As he clambered in the truck he checked his phone. No texts, and no calls. Kieren sent a quick text to Gary.

 

'On my way'

 

Then he roared the engine to life. It cut through the silence like a knife. A ping sounded next to him, and he checked his phone before getting going.

 

'Bring some breakfast would u? Ive only got bread here.'

 

His fingers flew over the screen with practiced ease.

 

'Got it.'

 

The drive back to the apartment was quiet with the radio playing low. It early on a weekend day there would be no one out on the road.

 

He stopped at the small health food store. Kieren picked up some cereal, soy milk, tea bags, and the tofu scramble the stores little cafe sold. He barely managed to balance the bag of groceries with the two containers of breakfast.

 

As he started the truck again his phone pinged.

 

'Don't get any of tht gross health food breakfast.'

 

'Too late.'

 

* * *

 

Jem watched the hills, and little rivers run by her as the car sped past. Then finally the first signs of Roarton began to appear. A stone bridge that led to a farm had harsh graffiti across it.

 

**‘ROTTERS BEWARE’**

 

Then when they passed an old rusted tractor another sign. This time a banner wrapped across the decaying machine.

 

**‘ROTTERS STAY OUT’**

 

Another sign, this time on the side of a shed.

 

**‘NO ROTTERS IN ROARTON’**

 

As they entered the industrial part of Roarton she noticed graffiti scrawled  across the side of a taller building.

 

**'God Bless the HVF'**

 

Uneasy confusion sank into her stomach.

 

"What's the HVF?" Jem watched as her parents both stiffened. They shared a glance before her mother was answering.

 

"Oh nothing to worry about anymore."

 

+++

 

Gary had grumbled and groused about the tofu scramble as expected, but he ate it anyway. Just as he ate all the 'gross' health food Kieren bought for him.

 

They hadn't talked as they ate. He'd simply shown up, put the groceries he'd bought away, they ate, and then Gary gave him a ride to work.

 

The two men didn't wish the other a good day. Gary brought him to work, and then left to go hunting for stray rabids.

 

The morning crowd hadn't even gotten in yet it seemed.

 

As he got to work Kieren found himself briefly wondering about his parents mysterious morning trip.

 

* * *

 

The house was as unchanged as she hoped. They had freshened the paint abit but it didn't look bad. They led her inside and she breathed in the familiar scent of her home.

 

Without looking behind her Jem headed upstairs. She was curious to see what her parents had done with her room. The door to her room was open, and she had to take a moment before heading inside it.

 

They hadn’t changed a thing. Absolutely nothing had been moved. It had been tidied up of course. The bed was made to military standards, the desk perfectly clear of all her old clutter, and her CDs had been arranged in alphabetical order. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. A small part of her had been hoping that the room would’ve been as if she hadn’t left. As if she could come home and be the same girl as when she left that fateful evening.

 

Jem didn’t know if she was the same girl anymore. She was relieved that there was evidence of someone being in her room while she was gone.

 

“I haven’t been in here since your funeral.” her mom said in the doorway. Jem turned and gave her an awkward smile. It felt like she was talking with a stranger. “I’m sure you want to get reaquainted so we’ll be downstairs.”

 

“Thanks Mum.” The words fell flat on her tongue, and were weighed down by all the questions she had formed on the ride back.

 

Then her door was empty again, and Jem was left alone.

 

The silence of her room made it hard to breath. It was the quiet of a life she couldn’t have back. Almost as if stung Jem went to her CDs and pulled a few out. She searched through them until she found the one she’d been looking for.

 

The mixed CD Kieren had made for her so long ago.

 

An hour later Jem is lying on her bed staring at the ceiling while the mixed CD plays for the second time. When it’s suddenly shut off she looks up alarmed. Her mom stands by the CD player a cross look on her face, and suddenly Jem is a live girl of sixteen again.

 

“Jemima you’ve been up here playing this racket long enough. Now come downstairs it’s time for dinner.” her irritated voice had Jem realizing just how much she’d missed them.

 

“Sorry.” Her mother seemed to soften, and her eyes gleamed.

 

“It’s alright. Just come downstairs for dinner.”

 

As the two women padded down the stairs her mother informed her. “We’ve made your favorite Jem! The roast beef took all day to stew, but I think it turned out well.”

 

She nearly tripped down the stairs.

 

“Mum,” She grabbed her mom’s elbow effectively stopping her. “I can’t eat.”

 

“Well you’ll be hungry later, but ju-”

 

“No, Mum. I mean I literally can’t eat or drink. It’ll just come right back up later.”

 

As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to take them back. The look of complete sadness that passed over her mother’s eyes made her insides clench.

 

"Just pretend for your father." she asked smiling. Desperation gleamed in her eyes, and Jem was suddenly reminded of the first person she ate.

 

"Okay Mum."

 

Jem bit her cheek. Dinner turned out to be awkward really fast. She mock ate the beef all while her Dad stared at his plate. No one talked.

 

When it's finally over she helps clear the table. It was something she refused to do towards the end of her first life. Now this life was a chance to start over.  She would try to be better.

 

She was washing the dishes when she heard the roar of an engine and flash of headlights pulling in. A car door is opened, and words murmured over the cars hum. Then the headlights were pulling out and the door to the garage opened.

 

Jem dropped the plate she'd been washing into the soapy water. Suds splashed all over her front, but she didn't care.

In the doorway stood Kieren.

 

He opened and closed his mouth.  Jem stared at him with apprehension simmering in her stomach.

 

"Jem?" Finally he spoke.

 

"Hey." came her lame response.

 

"Is- is that really you?" tears pricked his eyes. Then he was walking forward, and she felt crowded. Her throat constricted as her older brother stopped just short of hugging her. He simply stood there in disbelief. "How've you been?" he choked out.

 

"Undead?" sarcasm she could do. Joking with Kieren was familiar territory for her.

 

A bitter laugh tore from his throat.  His tears overflowed and then he was hugging her. For the first time since her rising Jem could breathe.

 

+++

 

Kieren couldn't believe it. He was washing dishes with his little sister again. They were standing side by side again. He was teasing her about her shorter height again.

 

His sister meant the world to him. He was going to make sure to spend more time with her now that she was back.

 

An awkward goodnight was exchanged in the hallway outside their rooms. Kieren found himself staring at her closed door. A wistful sigh escaped his lips before he turned to go to his bed.

 

That night his dream was a memory. Jem was curled on the couch as she cradled an orange to her. From the TV a tree was growing, and filling the whole house. He was trying to get to Jem.  She was calling for him, and she sounded scared. When he finally broke through the branches she was slumped on the couch. Kieren shook her, but she surged forward straight towards him. Hunger in her shattered eyes.

 

Kieren jerked awake. Hand grasping the pistol that lived under his pillow. He swung it around and brought it up to aim at the rabid his mind conjured for him. A small gasp fully woke him up. Kieren blinked to see his sister as the aim for his shot. He brought the gun down with a tired sigh.

 

"What is it Jem?" He asked as he put the firearm back under his pillow. Without taking heed of her response he stood and began rummaging for clothes to wear to work.

 

"M-mum says that breakfast is ready if you want some." Her eyes were fixed on his pillow. "Why do you have that?"

 

Kieren glanced back at her as she cautiously edged towards his desk so she could sit. He found a shirt to wear before he answered. "What can I say? Old habits die hard."

 

"Oh." She grasped her hands together and pressed her lips into a thin line. Kieren finished getting changed in silence.

 

"Tell Mum I'll be taking some breakfast to go. Ive got to get to work." He grabbed up his keys to the pub, and his cellphone. He paused when he noticed the crestfallen expression on her face. "I've got tomorrow off. If you're amiable; you wanna come with me on a daytrip?"

 

"Yes!" Kieren chuckled at her enthusiasm.

 

"Alright tomorrow it is then." He ruffled her hair then headed down to breakfast so he could get to the pub.

 

The morning crowd was small that morning. During his lunch break Kieren walked to a nearby restaurant.  He kept his eyes focused on the menu, and not on the secluded section at the back that a cheap cardboard sign hung over.

 

**PDS Section**

 

The letters burned into his guilty conscious.

 

* * *

 

Jem was shaken awake early the next morning. Kieren was towering over her bed a mischievous glint in his eye. She could do nothing but smile.

 

Kieren had her lug his old wooden easel down the stair. She was sure that if their parents hadn’t been awake before that they certainly were awake after the easel tumbled out of her grip. It crashed to the bottom of the stairs, and the two siblings could do nothing except stare.

 

Eyes wide Jem turned to Kieren. His brown puppy eyes mimicked hers.

 

A solid minute passed then Ren’s mouth was twitching into a smile, and she was shaking with relieved laughter. The giggle bubbled up in her throat; slipping past her lips in a hiss. Ren was bent double shoulders rocking violently. Then he was ushering her downstairs. Laughter escaped each time he tried to speak.

 

As he ate a bowl of cereal she sat on the counter kicking her legs back and forth. It was an exact mirror of the morning before he left for college. Though the shine in his eyes was from sadness then not excitement.

 

With the early morning mist hanging in the air the sibling set out from their house. Kieren carrying his raggedy bag of paints, and tools of the trade. Jem lugged his easel on her shoulder.

 

They walked in easy silence. Jem allowed herself to watch Roarton. She had never taken the time to actually look at it before her death, and now she could see the beauty of it. Rising had given her a chance at life again. She intended to use that chance for all it was worth.

 

Happiness bubbled in stomach. It shattered when she saw the first sign.

 

It was sloppily grafittied over a shop window. The letters blurred from time, and would’ve been unimportant if not for what they said.

 

**‘PDS not welcome’**

 

“Ren?” she inquired, “What’s with that sign?” A free hand pointed to the shop window. She knew that shop. Jem had bought snacks from there countless times with friends. She had played hooky there once or twice. Hell, she had even applied for a part-time job there before she was killed.

 

“Oh, that’s nothing really. So I was thinking you should try and go after that dream of yours from before.” he avoided her question. Jem’s stomach dropped. Kieren never avoided her questions before. He had always answered them.

 

‘ _I’m not the only one who changed._ ’ she thought.

 

“How can you say that sign is ‘nothing’ when it is clearly something.” she wanted to say. Instead she said, “I dunno if that’s possible.”

 

“Sure it is.” He glanced back at her. “You’ll be returning to school soon, and then you can join the football team again. From there it’s up to you and your hard work.”

 

They turned down a side alley just as she caught a glimpse of another sign.

 

**‘Living Only’**

 

+++

 

Kieren’s mind wasn’t walking with Jem entirely.

 

Part of it was back in his room. Where a letter sat on his desk informing him about a program that was supposed to give young HVF vets a chance to get back on track.

 

He had liked college. He had enjoyed his classes, and had made a few friends by the time the Rising came around. Then it was all something of a blur. He had fought his way to Roarton determined to find his parents alive. From there he had joined the HVF, kept his remaining family alive, and survived.

 

Kieren wasn’t so sure he could return to that life. He didn’t think he wanted to anyway. In that life his little sister had been dead.

 

“So, why aren’t you at school?” Jems question rang in his ears a moment before he registered it.

 

“Lots of reasons.” He wanted her to drop it. Kieren hated not answering her questions, but she was asking painful ones.

 

“Like?”

 

“Like the fact that I fought my way here to make sure Mum and Dad were alive.” he snapped.

 

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

 

Silence settled again.

 

Kieren started climbing the hill to the church. Little by little the gravestones became clearer against the backdrop of the stone church.

 

‘ _That would make a good painting_.’ he thought. Yet, it wasn’t his goal to paint the church. His destination was the hill behind the church, and the view it provided of the graveyard as well as Roarton.

 

They squeezed into the grounds. Caution tape fluttering in the morning breeze like a flag. His fingers itched to draw it. Yet he resisted the urge and focused his gaze on the hill.

 

“I just need your help getting the easel up there, and then you can wander around if you like.” Kieren purposefully spoke above the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. There was only one person who would be bugging him this early in the morning, and he didn’t want to leave his sister.

 

“‘Kay” was Jem’s distracted response. He looked back to see her eyes riveted on the tombstones.

 

“C’mon Jem don’t get spacey just yet.” A smile played across his face at the old familiar joke. She smiled at him before jogging to catch up.

 

They walk in silence a few moments before she spoke up from beside him.

 

“Is this where I was?”

 

“Huh?” he hummed.

 

“Is this where you guys buried me?”

 

Kieren has to stop walking at that point and look towards her. She has her face turned away. Her eyes still focused on the grave markers.

 

“Yeah.” He manages to choke out after a few moments.

 

+++

 

The hill gave him exactly the view he wanted. Without another word he dove straight into sketching. He’d paint over the sketch later that day.

 

A glance told him that Jem was sitting awkwardly next to him.

 

“You know you can go look.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“At your grave. You can go look at your grave.”

 

She didn’t say another word just continued sitting. Kieren finished his sketch within another hour, and she was still sitting there. The day continued.

 

Still Jem didn’t move to go investigate her final resting place. The base coat had just finished drying when it was time to go. Jem was still sitting in the grass. She silently helped him carry his stuff, and they went back home. This time he took care not to go onto the main streets.

 

* * *

 

The trips to the graveyard soon became a Sunday tradition between them. Jem at first is too nervous to move from Kierenʻs side.

 

She was scared she realized after a month of trips to the graveyard, and still she couldnʻt go back to school.

 

She was scared to see her grave. Jem didn’t want to see the upturned earth she had dug with her bare hands. The small dark confined space that haunted her dreams.

 

Jem had taken to bringing a book along. Reading was calming, and it let her be absorbed in another world. Sometimes she bought a newspaper, and read about the problems within the world.

 

Whenever she read the newspaper something swelled in her. It hummed just underneath the surface. Something about it made her want to go out and do something. It made her want to change something, help someone, or fix a problem. Slowly an idea of what she could do with this second chance had started to grow inside her.

 

That day the front of the paper had a large image blown across it. Even though the steady weight of a book was in her hand she bought it. All while ignoring the disapproving look of the shopkeeper, and the sign on the counter.

 

ʻ **No PDS** ʻ

 

The picture was of a burning building. People were standing watching, and the firemen weren’t moving. They all stood stationary a picture of complete calm against a backdrop of chaos. Then her eyes swept down to the title of the article, and she stopped breathing.

 

ʻ **Homeless PDS Center Set Aflame** '

 

Anger tasted like cold metal as it poured down her throat.

 

Without even glancing back Jem was out of the shop, and practically jogging to the cemetery. Kieren was calling after her. She didn’t stop.

 

The caution tape had been retied and she ripped it down. Not caring for how it fluttered in the breeze.

 

Air burned in her lungs as she climbed the hill. She quickly sat in her spot and began reading.

 

' _On Thursday of this week a Homeless shelter for PDS Sufferers was burnt down. It is suspected that arson was the cause of the fire. A search of the ruins revealed that twenty-five registered PDS had been inside the building when it went up in flames.'_

 

Something roared in Jems ears.

 

Kieren joined her at the hill. His breathing was hard, but she felt no guilt for leaving him behind.

 

"What was that about Jem?" He asked.

 

She didn't respond. All she did was stand and walk down from the hill. Her eyes trained on the gravestones.

 

She only glanced at the names. Jem took a moment to pause at the graves where earth had been turned.

 

As if something had been clawing to get out.

 

Finally she found the stone inscribed ' _Jemima Walker_.' There was no birth and death date in order to make room for the inscription.

 

_Monsters at the edge of time_

_Waiting ‘till we cross the line_

_Say a last goodbye_

_Say a prayer and fly_

 

It was the last verse to her favorite song on Kieren’s mixed CD. She squatted down in front of it, and watched as the stone blurred together. Jem didn’t know how long she stayed there looking without seeing. It was only when she heard someone humming a tune that she looked up.

 

A few graves away a woman was dancing between the tombstones. A red flower in her hair that looked like a burning flame.

 

As the woman drew nearer recognition dawned in Jems face. She knew the woman. She knew the woman from when she was rabid. They had hunted together.

 

Standing slowly Jem never took her eyes off the woman. The roaring in her ears got louder, and the newspaper that was clenched in her hand fluttered against a strong breeze. Swallowing her nerves Jem took a breath.

 

“Hey!” she called to the woman. The woman stumbled a little in her dancing, but did not lose her balance. Upon seeing Jem a wide smile broke out across her deathly pale face.

 

“Hello Cutie!” she called back in a sing song voice.

 

The woman advanced on Jem, and she unconsciously got ready to run. When the woman’s smile faltered with recognition she nearly did bolt.

 

“I know you!” The smile was back. “We hunted together you and I!”

 

“Yeah.” Jem was ever the eloquent speaker.

 

The two stood there awkwardly. Both looking at the other.

 

“So, what’re you doing with this second life?” the woman asked.

 

“No idea. My brother wants me to pursue the dream I had before, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll happen.”

 

“Well, second life. New you and new dreams can come from it!”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“Never got to ask you,” the woman began. “How’d you croak?”

 

For a moment all Jem could do was stare at her. This woman had no problem with any subject; even the touchiest of subjects for a PDS. Laughter bubbled at the pit of her stomach. After a futile minute of fighting it a great peal of laughter launched from her.

 

With smiling lips Jem replied, “Drunk driver. You?”

 

“Leukemia.”

 

Silence ruled again as Jem watched her shoes. Now unsure of what to say.

 

“Jem!” Kieren’s voice rang out in the graveyard. She looked up as he came running over all his art supplies forgotten atop the hill most likely. Then his eyes found the woman, and some sort of panic seized her. “Hey Amy.”

 

“That’s your name? Amy?” Jem asked incredulous. She had never pictured the rabid she’d hunted with would have such an average sounding name.

 

“Don’t wear it out.” she winked. “And your name’s Jem?”

 

“Jemima at birth, but you can call me Jem. How do you know my brother?”

 

Amy giggled then grabbed Ren’s arm as soon as he got close enough. “We’re engaged!”

 

Jem’s eyebrows shot straight up her forehead. Her big brother. Engaged. To a woman. That was something she’d pay to see.

 

“Jem what upset you so much?” Kieren paid no mind to the woman hanging on his arm

 

The newspaper in her hand suddenly felt like a dead weight. The anger that had died down with finding her grave was back. She thrust the paper and its fiery cover photo at her brother.

 

"This. This is the problem." She said evenly. "Ever since I came back you've all tried to keep things from me! You know I notice the signs. All of the signs that say ‘No PDS’ all of the signs and the glares from people because they know I have PDS! For God’s sake these people watched me grow up! They know me, and now that I’m back they’re treating me like they never saw me before!”

 

“Jem-” Kieren began as if he was placating a wild animal.

 

“Shut up Ren! You won’t answer any of my questions, and you don’t really talk to me! Sundays are the only days you really act like I exist. Other than that you’re always out of the house. Why’re you here? Why’re you back in Roarton? Why didn’t you return to school when The Rising was all over?” tears tracked down her face, and she knew her makeup had come off. She rubbed her sleeve over her face; sparing only a glance for the makeup that had rubbed onto it.

 

“I think we should all just calm down, and go someplace where we can’t wake the dead.” Amy spoke up a cautious smile on her face.

 

Kieren didn’t look up from the paper in his hand. Jem was so angry with everything that had happened since arriving back in Roarton that she just started walking. She had made it all the way to town when she slowed down.

 

Almost immediately Amy was walking beside her.

 

“Wow. That was quite the unloading you did up there.”

 

“Yeah, sorry.”

 

“Oh, no need to apologize! I’m pretty mad about the way we get treated as well.”

 

They walked on in silence. Jem pointedly ignoring the looks they got, and Amy pointedly returning said looks. It was when they were nearly to Jem’s house that she spoke again.

 

“It’s just- I don’t know. I guess a small part of me was really hoping I’d come back and it’d be like I never left.” Jem elaborated to the gray sky.

 

“I know how that feels.”

 

She smiled at the quietly supportive presence of Amy. They had only known each other when they were Rabids, but it felt as if she’d known her as long as she’d been alive. She supposed hunting together bonded two people together in a weird way.

 

Instead of going to her house Jem walked beyond it. Amy asked no questions simply walked with her. Eventually they ended up at the basketball courts.

 

There they sat in silence in the middle of the court, and didn’t talk. Well, Jem didn’t talk. Amy seemed to like filling the silence with chatter. Even when the sun set the two of them stayed out there under the darkening sky.

 

It was when a loud truck with bright lights pulled up that they got up. Amy said it was time for her to get back to her bungalow, and Jem was more than welcome to come along.

 

They stopped dead in their tracks when they heard Kieren’s shout, and the engine of the truck was cut.

 

“Jem!” the dark figure of her brother appeared from the vehicle. He jogged up to her as she noticed another figure get out of the truck. “Jem! Here you are! I was so worried I didn’t know where you’d gone!”

 

“Ren.” her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched the figure get closer. She knew that truck. She knew that truck very well.

 

That truck had killed her.

 

“Look, Jem I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about everything. Yes, I have been ignoring you. Not because I want to! But it’s because I work at the pub, and practically run it myself now. Sundays are my only days off. Also, it’s still a little surreal. When the Rising happened I had just gotten used to the feeling of you being gone. Now you’re back and I just don’t know what to do.”

 

Bile was rising in her throat as the other figure kept getting closer, and she recognized the shape. It was Gary Kendal.

 

Gary Kendal who had been drunk driving back from the pub. Gary Kendal who had beat up a boy for her when Kieren couldn’t. Gary Kendal who she had had the stupidest crush on at age twelve. Gary Kendal who had picked her up and taken her to school the day she had ditched for the last time ever.

 

Gary Kendal who had killed her.

 

“Part of it’s just that I’ve been stressed because of this program--”

 

“Ren!” she cut him off. “What is he doing here?!” Tears pricked at her eyes as fear and aggression warred inside her. With a shaking hand she pointed at Gary, and he stopped dead. His eyes wide as he took in the sight that was Jemima Walker back from the dead. The girl he had killed was back, and she really wanted to punch him in the face.

 

Understanding dawned on Kieren’s face.

 

“Jem--”

 

“What’re you doin’ here?” the anger in Amy’s voice caused Jem to look back at her.

 

“Don’t go talkin’ like that to me Rotter!” Gary practically screamed at Amy. Anger and fear smeared across his face. when he moved as if to advance on them Jemstepped back and Kieren stepped forward.

 

“That’s enough Gary!” Kieren shouted. “Just go alright! You can’t keep treatin’ PDS like this! They’re still people! I am so tired of hearing you call them that slur! Do you have any idea how ignorant you sound?!”

 

Gary seemed taken aback.

 

“Neither of us has ever talked about it, but I really think that we need to now! You killed my sister! You drove drunk, and killed my sister! You still have a drinking problem especially since Vicky left you! I don’t blame her for leaving! You are a child trapped in a man’s body, and I’m surprised she didn’t leave sooner!”

 

The words hung in the air. Gary opened and closed his mouth.

 

“Amy is my friend, and so are you. But right now I think it’s best for everyone if you just leave.” Ren didn’t look away from him.

 

Kieren didn’t have to tell him twice. She watched as Gary Kendal stumbled to his truck, and drove away so quickly his tires squealed.

 

Jem watched Gary Kendal, the man who killed her, disappear into the night.

 

She didn’t register moving. It seemed as if one moment she was standing alone, and the next she was hugging her big brother.

 

“You know I don’t think I want to be a football star anymore.” she choked between her tears, and Amy’s giggles.

 

“That’s okay I don’t want to be a pediatrician anymore either.” Kieren kissed the top of her head, and she felt warm.

 

For the first time since rising Jemima Walker felt warm again.

^^^^^^^

**Jemima Walker Voted FIRST PDS Sufferer to Parliament** _Jemima Walker has made history by becoming the first PDS Sufferer to be elected to Parliament. She has done ground breaking work in her efforts to secure equal treatment of PDS Sufferers everywhere within the United Kingdom. . . . Jemima Walker may have the body of a teenager; but her wisdom is sure to benefit not only those like her but this nation as a whole._

**Noted Artist Kieren Walker Dies at the Age of 92** _Kieren Walker was a well noted artist who redefined his field. His works are famous for their haunting feel, and for featuring the PDS. . . .  His younger sister Jemima Walker denied comment as she has entered into mourning. . . . Kieren Walker is to be cremated per his request, and his ashes are to be buried by his family._


End file.
